


Blood Loss for the Soul

by high_functioning_sociopath



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood Loss, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Tony, Post-Stabbing, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Whump, from blood loss but still, it's cute i promise, lots of tony's mental ramblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22887415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_functioning_sociopath/pseuds/high_functioning_sociopath
Summary: Thunking his head against the wall he’s leaning against—heavily, he’ll admit, because he’s allowed to do that with a goddamned stab wound in his side—he squeezes his eyes shut. The pain is making it impossible to focus on anything visually anyway, it’s nothing but distracting at this point. He uses his dry—not not covered in blood, he is absolutely not thinking about that right now, no siree—hand to pull his phone out of his pocket, cursing at the difficulty while his hand is shaking so hard.Are people with hand tremors unable to use StarkPhones? He’ll have to check that out before the next upgrade.Not now, though. Now he’s bleeding out and Pepper will kill him if he dies.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 167





	Blood Loss for the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: **Injured** | **Phone call**
> 
> Of course, Tony whump was the best option for that, right? =p
> 
> I have a tendency to ramble in the beginning notes and I'm trying to Not, so! I like this a lot, and I hope you like it too! <3
> 
> Thank you to [swisstae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swisstae) for beta-ing the first scene and boosting my self esteem like a boss! And thank you to [Juulna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juulna/pseuds/Juulna) for beta-ing and making the whole thing what it is now!

He can feel the warmth of the blood pulsing on his fingers as he presses his hand tightly against the wound, sucking loud breaths in and out through his teeth as he tries to  _ fucking stay calm _ .

Thunking his head against the wall he’s leaning against—heavily, he’ll admit, because he’s allowed to do that with a goddamned stab wound in his side—he squeezes his eyes shut. The pain is making it impossible to focus on anything visually anyway, it’s nothing but distracting at this point. He uses his dry—not  _ not covered in blood _ , he is absolutely not thinking about that right now, no siree—hand to pull his phone out of his pocket, cursing at the difficulty while his hand is shaking so hard.

Are people with hand tremors unable to use StarkPhones? He’ll have to check that out before the next upgrade.

Not now, though. Now he’s bleeding out and Pepper will kill him if he dies.

He manages to get the phone out and ask JARVIS to call Happy, who doesn’t pick up. Pepper is on a different continent for SI stuff, JARVIS reminds him, as is Rhodey for some confidential military crap he definitely hacked into but can’t manage to remember. Why does he pay people if they’re not going to be there when he’s bleeding out in an alleyway?

_ You don’t pay me _ , Rhodey’s voice reminds him. He ignores it.

“Shall I call Captain Rogers?” J suggests, and Tony snorts.

“I dunno, J, do I want to be lectured about not being careful enough and getting stabbed, while I’m already bleeding out in an alley?”

“You coded me, Sir, you know your kinks better than I do.”

Tony laughs despite himself, hissing when the action makes the pain flare a little hotter. “Okay, shit, fine, call him.”

It’s only a few short (and yet so,  _ so _ long) seconds before Steve’s voice comes over the line, clear and not tinny because he knows how to make a damn phone, thank you very much.

(He used a HammerTech phone once. It was brutal.)

“Cap! Mr. America, Captain Popsicle, how are you doing on this lovely evening?” he greets, because he may be an asshole but, contrary to popular belief, he knows how to be polite.

“It’s 1:30 in the morning,” Steve comments instead of answering, because he, also contrary to popular belief, does  _ not _ know how to be polite.

“Really? Huh, who knew. I guess it’s a bad time to ask you to join me in a stroll through the park?”

A deep sigh passes across the line. Yeah, he has that effect on people. “Good night, Tony.”

“Wait! I need your help,” he blurts out, because he can waste time being an idiot all he wants, but he  _ cannot _ waste time getting hung up on. “I have a slight... problem. I need you to bring Dr. Cho to me.”

“You’re hurt? How badly?” Steve asks. He’s definitely not imagining the concern in the Star Spangled voice; he also definitely does not have the capacity to mentally squeal like a teenager about it — he’ll do that later, when his platelets are where they’re supposed to be. Or replaced, he guesses, considering he can’t exactly scoop what he lost off the concrete. He’s pretty sure that’s unsanitary or something. Probably give him an infection, then he’ll just be laid up longer. Fucking concrete.

“Tony?” Steve urges.

Shit, how long had he been distracted? “Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“J’s got the coordinates, probably sent them to you already. Also Dr. Cho’s address, she’s directly on the way and should be outside when you get there.”

“Okay, got it, I’m on my way. But wouldn’t it have been faster to—”

“She refuses to take or be taken by the suits. Something about heights,” he cuts Steve off, thunking his head against the wall again a couple times to try to keep his brain functioning.

"—have JARVIS fly her with the armor," he finishes. "How did you—"

"I knew you weren't about to suggest 911, not with your complete disregard for road law if they're inconveniencing you. And you know I hate hospitals. You get me.”

“Okay, okay, Tony? I can hear you slurring—” (he was not slurring, Steve is hallucinating. Maybe Steve’s the one who needs Dr. Cho) “—I need you to try to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I’m gonna sit, though. My feet are tired. God,  _ I’m _ tired.” He pauses. “I changed my mind about staying awake. ‘M gonna take a nap,” he informs Steve as he slides down against the brick until his tush is planted on the ground, ‘cause he’s smart and knows he’s supposed to tell people what he’s doing when he’s injured so he doesn’t make it worse. He has a very high IQ, so he knows this. Well, he assumes he does. Howard thought IQ tests were pointless and inaccurate. Which they are, so. Point Papa Stark.

“ _ Tony! _ ”

God, is Steve still talking? He has a nice voice, yeah, but shhh. Nap time. Though, come to think of it, he wouldn’t mind that voice lulling him to sleep. Those would create some nice dreams, he’s sure. Nice, fluffy dreams full of cuddles and laughing and spooning ice cream into each other’s mouths. Oh, and sex. Lots of sex. God, he would die for a Steve Rogers sex dream.

“I am not lulling you to sleep right now and you are not dying!” Steve hisses across the line. 

Tony should probably be embarrassed that he said all that out loud, but he can’t manage it. Blood loss, who knew? Bottle that shit up and sell it, Embarrassed No More. Ugh, no, terrible name. Whatever, he’s R&D, engineering; not his department. 

“You survived aliens, Tony,” Steve’s voice sounds from far away. “You can’t be taken down by this. Don’t you dare pass out.”

Tony’s never been great at following instructions.

⟺

He blinks against the bright light and groans, asking JARVIS to dim it all, and sighing with relief when his eyes stop burning against the harsh white, now calmer yellow, light. He can feel the non-silk sheets against his back—which is his first clue: he doesn’t sleep on his back when he’s given the choice—and sighs heavily. Med bay. Ugh. 

“God, I hate this room,” he mutters. “Why did I pay for a room I hate?”

“I don’t think you were directly in charge of decorating, but I’m sure you can fix it.”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut before looking up toward the heavens and silently begging every non-existent deity to make this a hallucination before turning his head and giving a lopsided smirk. “Heya, Spangles.” He places a hand on his side, and tries not to give into the urge to tug at his bandages.

Steve’s lips twitch into a shadow of a smile and Tony’s stitches must be pulling because it’s the only explanation for the feeling that spreads through his chest.

(Yes, he knows they’re nowhere near each other. Shut up.)

“Hey,” Steve says softly. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got stabbed. Weird, huh? Can’t imagine where that came from.” The eye roll he gets is too fond to be insulting, and he decides to go for broke. “So… I said some stuff all hopped up on blood loss, I think?”

Steve turns an absolutely  _ adorable _ shade of red, the flush tinting his whole face, and Tony bites the inside of his lips to keep any sounds or smirks hidden. “Yeah,” Steve finally responds, running a hand through his hair and making it stick out a little awkwardly. Ugh. How cute, no— Gross. 

He totally means gross. Yeah.

“Something about liking my voice. And sex dreams.”

Tony chuckles a little awkwardly, scratching at the side of his head. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“You know,” Steve starts, and Tony doesn’t know whether to let the butterflies of hope keep fluttering in his stomach, or if he should crush them and brace for rejection. Something tells him to keep the colorful creatures intact, and it must have been an intervention by one of the aforementioned deities, because the next thing out of Steve’s mouth is, “There’s an exhibit going on next week of breakthrough technology throughout the years. I was thinking we could go. You can bore me to death with detailed explanations of where they went wrong and how much better a job you would have done with just a rock and some string.”

Tony hums, moving his head from side to side as he pretends to think it through. “Will we get to make out in the parking lot?”

“I’ll sit you on my bike and we’ll walk in there with sex hair and hickeys,” Steve says seriously, and Tony grins.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! Come join us on our writing & prompts discord server - Writer Buddies. All forms of writing and art welcome! https://discord.gg/s2b3qng


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